Off Base(58)

“Sweeter than most girls…” His voice faded, and she knew what he was thinking. Sweeter than most girls I sleep with.

She was well acquainted with his normal type of female. Most were Army groupies eager for a meaningless f*ck. She wasn’t that. This wasn’t meaningless for her. He had to know that even without her saying it. He knew her too well.

His hand shifted on her back again, stroking softly. “You deserve so much, Huntley.”

“So do you,” she countered, her chest aching, almost hurting because she knew he didn’t believe that of himself. Especially not carrying the burden of Xander’s death. “Some day you’ll realize that.”

She only hoped it wouldn’t be too late before he realized that a part of that better fate he deserved could be a future with her.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” She touched his face again, and he reached up to hold her wrists.

“You’re a good man, Cullen.” He needed to hear this. He needed to believe it. He’d been listening to his father call him a f*ck-up for years. And now he was blaming himself for what happened to Xander. He needed to know someone believed in him—that she did.

He stared at her for a long moment before releasing her wrists. He shoved his hand between her thighs, nudging them apart, sending the question on her lips and her thoughts scattering.

He knuckled her panties aside without a word and plunged a finger inside her. She gasped as he worked her with a few strokes until she was wet.

He withdrew his hand and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. Still holding her panties to the side, he thrust inside her. She cried out, straddling and impaled on him, the sensation tottering the edge of pain and pleasure.

He gripped her waist and guided her with his big hands, practically lifting her up and down until she gained her own rhythm and could move. But even that wasn’t enough for him. Not in his present state.

With a growl, he rolled her over onto her knees, hauling her bottom up and pulling her back flush against him. He rubbed his head along her crease, playing in her moist folds for a moment before driving into her again.

She whimpered, an orgasm swelling at the first plunge. Her sex clenched around his thickness. She’d never been taken from behind like this, and the position pushed down on her sweet spot. OhGodOhGod! His every thrust stroked along that bundle of nerves and she shuddered, shattering under him.

Her muscles turned to jelly and her body went limp, giving out under him, but he wasn’t having it. His grip on her hips tightened and he hauled her back up, holding her for his hammering cock.

One of his hands skated up the slope of her back and curled around her shoulder, anchoring her for him as he f*cked her hard. He was a beast. It felt desperate and primal. And she loved it. She was so wet she could hear the slick glide of him working in and out of her. A second orgasm swelled before the tremors from her first had even subsided.

They climaxed simultaneously. He slammed into her with a last grind of his pelvis, his cock pulsing as he released inside her.

Pulling out of her, he dropped down on the mattress. She collapsed onto her stomach, her sex throbbing in the aftermath. She stared wide-eyed into the dark, marveling at how every encounter with him was different, better.

She pressed her fingers to her mouth, holding in any words she might regret.

She would never tire of this, and yet it was ephemeral. As fleeting and illusory as a dream. In the morning it would be gone.

His hand came down on the small of her back, his fingers trailing up the dip of her spine and moving between her shoulder blades. Goosebumps broke out over her skin.

“Did I hurt you?” His deep voice rumbled over the dark, wrapping around her.

“No. I liked it.” Loved it. Loved him.

Oh, God. She wanted to sleep every night beside him. She wanted to be there for him when he woke with a bad dream. His friend. His lover. All of that. She wanted to be everything to him.

She jammed her eyes shut and took a steadying breath, thankful he couldn’t see her face in the dark as she reached this staggering realization.

“I was rough. I’m sorry—”

“I loved it.” I love you. She exhaled, tapping her fingers against her mouth.

His hand settled flatly on her back, his palm splaying warmly in the center. The imprint of his hand there seared deep into her—through skin, sinew and bone, directly into her soul.

*

In the murky light of predawn, Huntley felt the bed dip and shift. All at once she was wide awake. Her heart beat fast in her chest as she stilled and waited, hoping, praying he would kiss her goodbye, maybe whisper a quick promise. She knew he was leaving, but she longed for him to say something. See you tonight. Call you after work. Let’s grab dinner. Can I spend the night again? Something. Anything but him slipping silently from her room like a thief in the night.

Cracking one eye the barest peep, she identified Cullen’s outline at the side of the bed—the broad shoulders and sinewy back tapering to a narrow waist. He moved out of range of vision. She heard the rustle of his clothing and then nothing. She could feel his stare on her in the shadows. A long moment passed.

Her ears strained and her heart locked up inside her at the sound of his tread leaving her room. There was the faint jangle of his keys where he had left them in the living room. The door opening and shutting.